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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750605">Maybe Words</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantom_rain/pseuds/phantom_rain'>phantom_rain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Boss and a Badass [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World Wrestling Entertainment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drama, F/F, Here we go, Rarepair as hell again, Tension, all the things, cuz everything i touch turns dramatic, uhhhh not necessarily angst but</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:13:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantom_rain/pseuds/phantom_rain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alright so, I’m sure the world knows that there’s not exactly love loss between you and the Four Horsewomen, but we wanna get specific here. We wanna talk about the number one contender for your title. We wanna talk about The Legit Boss, Sasha Banks.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sasha Banks/Ronda Rousey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Boss and a Badass [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Maybe Words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Direct follow up to ‘Maybe Later’ set some time after it </p><p>Did anyone ask for this either??? NOPE but here it is.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“And we are back! Still hanging out with new Raw Women’s Champion, Ronda Rousey. Fresh off her win over Charlotte Flair just a couple short weeks ago. Man, you’ve still gotta be buzzing from that. That was a hell of a fight.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda laughs and slightly adjusts the gaudy red belt casually resting in her lap. “It totally was. I’ll give it to Charlotte, she’s a hell of a fighter. The better woman just won out that night. The baddest woman.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The interviewer laughs too enthusiastically for Ronda’s liking and she has to fight back an eye roll. He’s a squirmy man with one of those carbon copy bachelor undercuts and a suit that’s so tight she’s sure his circulation is being cut off somewhere. Either way, she manages to keep a smile even as he shifts forward in his chair.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We’ve had a really great time having you on today, but before we end off, we just gotta ask you one question. Now be forewarned we kinda snuck this in here just because we wanna keep it real here.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Trying to throw me off? Haha, good luck. I’m down for anything.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You sure?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Go for it. Ask away.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Alright so, I’m sure the world knows that there’s not exactly love loss between you and the Four Horsewomen, but we wanna get specific here. We wanna talk about the number one contender for your title. We wanna talk about The Legit Boss, Sasha Banks.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda blinks in surprise, but only needs a few seconds to recover. Before she can open her mouth to have a say on where the questioning is going, he’s already piping in with his next two cents.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We all know The Boss is a hell of a competitor in her own right, so we have no doubt you’re gonna have your hands full there. You two seem to have quite a bit of history right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda forces a laugh. “Look man, the history Banks and I have is when I’m tossing her ass all over that ring. And this time is gonna be no different.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He grins widely and his eyes sparkle with something akin to mischief and Ronda suddenly finds herself wishing that the interview was over a solid five minutes ago. At this point, she knows she’s damn well stuck here lest a sudden escape raise even more questions than the invasive ones she’s already got coming her way. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“See, we found something pretty interesting from a few nights after your win. Kinda suggests that maybe you might have your hands full on a whole other level when it comes to The Boss?” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Excuse—” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda’s attention is then draw to the monitors set up just off camera. Her heart sinks as she’s met with familiar images. Not because the pictures themselves were familiar, but because she remembers that night vividly, even if she had been a little buzzed. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">First off, the idiot in front of her had gotten one thing wrong. This wasn’t a few nights after her win. This was the night she fucking won and she was so high on adrenaline, she threw caution to the wind and decided to celebrate. What had surprised her though was how willingly Sasha had wanted to tag along. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The pictures of herself by the bar getting drinks don’t exactly bother her. No, what bothers her is the very grainy video that follows. She swallows thickly as she remembers clear as day what it was like out the dance floor. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She had long since shed her jacket as she was dragged out onto the dance floor. She had a drink in one hand and the other had been tightly wrapped around Sasha’s waist while the woman was grinding against her alongside the music. It was hot, the music was loud and they were both well on their way to drunk. Ronda only had one thing on her mind that night other than her title win and it was how quickly she could get Sasha out of the club and back to her hotel room. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Thank god for shitty cellphone cameras because the differences in the photos of her alone at the bar and her and Sasha out on the dance floor are monumental. She hadn’t even been listening to a damn thing this idiot had been rattling off while flipping through the pics. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That’s clearly you and Sasha right?” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda wants to stand up and toss the man across the stage. If she were a lesser woman she damn well would, cameras be damned. Instead, she sits back in her seat and adopts a look of boredom and neutrality. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I mean yeah that’s me by the bar, it’s not uncommon for a few of us to get caught in the same place unwinding after a show,” she manages a shrug. “As far as what Sasha was doing, I have no idea. It’s got nothing to do with me.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The interviewer raises an eyebrow. “So you’re saying that’s not you and Sasha Banks out dancing together?” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda scoffs and makes a face. “Are you serious? First of all, look at that, it could be anybody. Hell, knowing Sasha it could be anybody. We all know that The Boss isn’t exactly one to keep still for very long.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">As soon as the words leave Ronda’s mouth she wishes she could take them back. It’s literally the feeling of a bad taste and she feels her insides clench as her words seem to settle. What makes it worse is this jackass seems to be loving the absolute scandal of it all and she’s becoming dangerously close to introducing him to the underside of her boot. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well guess that answers that then,” he laughs. “Cool of you to take some time out to spend with us here. Thanks for coming on!” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Thanks for having me,” Ronda’s smile is tight and she’s left tightly clenching her teeth. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">As soon as the cameras cut, Ronda is out of her seat, not even casting a glance at the fool that has the audacity to try to shake her hand. Her phone is practically burning a hole in her pocket. Not because of any new notifications, but she’s afraid of what she’ll find when she eventually picks it up.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I can’t believe she’d do this...I seriously can’t believe she’d do this.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Charles, run it back so we can see again.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Becky move I can’t see!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Why do I gotta move? Char is the one taking up the most space with her damn boulder shoulders!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay first of all, go fuck yourself—”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“And it’s my iPad!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Nobody gives a shit Bayley!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I give a shit! Sasha’s my best friend so if anybody has rights to figuring this shit out it’s me!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“There’s nothing to figure out! Obviously this is that little fucking traitor in this video!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We need to find Rousey so I can knock her block off for corruption.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You two are dumb. Can I please have my fucking tablet back!?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Not until we figure this out!” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Around a catering table sit three horsewomen hunched over an iPad. On said iPad is the grainy cellphone footage that’s lit the wrestling world aflame for the past several days. The video has been played back several times an an attempt to make sense of all the rumors floating around. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Wait,” Bayley speaks up looking around. “Has anyone even seen Sasha?” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Becky rolls her eyes. “What, haven’t you? Shouldn’t you know where she is,<em> best friend</em>?” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Bayley scowls and flicks Becky in the ear. It’s true though, she of all people should know where Sasha is, but oddly enough, she hasn’t much heard from her. Now that she thinks about it, Sasha has been acting kinda cagey for little bit and she hasn’t really picked up why. She just hopes that everything is alright.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sasha Banks is a woman on a mission. She about knocks three people over as she moves through the backstage area with a determination that’s enough to part the Red Sea. Her gaze is as cold as ice and it’s a wonder she doesn’t manage to leave a few statues in her wake.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She doesn’t have a match tonight. Just a segment that’s left her in one of her favorite casual outfits. Her black boots rap rhythmically against the floor as she continues her search. The sound pauses as she spots a pair chatting at the end of the hall. Sasha’s eyes narrow into dangerously slits as the staccato sound of her shoes quickly starts up again.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Meanwhile, Shayna is nodding along to Ronda’s words, but she stops listening as out of the corner of her she catches the rapidly approaching woman. She angles her head and frowns in confusion. Her eyes widen when she sees how fuming Sasha is.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda stops talking as she notices that Shayna isn’t looking at her anymore, but instead at something over her shoulder. “What?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Uh...”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda doesn’t have much time to react as there’s a harsh tug on her arm swings her around. Her eyes widen at Sasha’s glowering and before she can even begin to say anything, it happens.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">*<em><b>SMACK</b></em>*</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The slap is enough to silence all of backstage. Hell, it’s enough to silence the entire arena if anyone were listening for it. A few stragglers look on in surprise as the echo from it still rings in their ears.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fuck. You.” Sasha hisses through her teeth before she harshly pushes past Ronda. She shoulder checks Shayna and nearly knocks her into an equipment box on her way down the hall.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The slap was open palm and definitely more noise than anything. Still though, that doesn’t stop Ronda’s face from stinging like a bitch. Her cheeks have gone impossibly red as she can feel eyes on her waiting for her to react.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“The fuck was that about?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda raises a hand to her face and winces when it stings even more. A soft huff escapes her as she looks up in time to see Sasha disappear at the end of the hall. Finally, she looks back at Shayna who’s still waiting for a response and shakes her head. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Just...bad blood I guess.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sasha’s thankful that she’s successfully been able to avoid people for the night. After her small segment with Asuka, she quickly ducked back into her dressing room to pack up and head out. Sure her phone has practically imploded with messages from her friends, but she’s hoping that they’ll get the idea that she doesn’t want to be bothered. Especially not right now.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"> <em>“We all know that The Boss isn’t one to keep still for very long.”</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The comment at cut much deeper than it should have, but Sasha found herself seething for reasons only known to herself. Reasons she definitely wasn’t going to acknowledge even past those slight fleeting thoughts before she shoves it back into the crate in her mind.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"> <em>“The Boss isn’t one to keep still for very long.”</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Couldn’t be farther from the truth. The Boss isn’t one to let anyone in. Even with the arrangement now, Sasha still can’t help but feel a little stung from the comment.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Keep still for very long,” Sasha scoffs out loud as she stuffs the last of her makeup into her suitcase. “Fucking asshole.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Grabbing her suitcase, Sasha heads towards the door. She’s looking down at her phone to confirm the directions to her hotel when she opens the door and feels like she runs smack into a wall. When she looks up, her face immediately sours.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Get the fuck out of my way.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda winced at the bite in Sasha’s tone. The glare is enough to send a chill down her spine and she’s sure she still has a hand mark on her face. That must’ve went over well for the tv cameras.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I was wondering if you had a second.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t. Especially not for you,” Sasha tries to shuffle past but Ronda doesn’t budge. “Move.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda’s eyebrows furrow. “Please? Just a second?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’ve used up your second. Now if you’ll excuse me, The Boss has a few beds to hop into before the night is over.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I didn’t...fuck. I didn’t mean it like that.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh,” Sasha scoffs bitterly. “Could’ve fooled me. You sounded pretty convincing and pretty damn proud of yourself.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda groans quietly. “You’ve got every reason to be pissed, but I really don’t think you wanna have this conversation in the hall. So can we just...?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sasha narrows her eyes and so badly she wants to say no. For whatever reason, she instead finds herself taking a few steps back into her dressing room to allow the other woman inside. She tosses her suitcase to the side, knocking it over before she’s crossing her arms defiantly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda shuffles awkwardly before sighing. “Look, I’m sorry that came out like that. That wasn’t fair of me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fair?” Sasha laughs mirthlessly and raises an eyebrow. “You basically let the whole world know how big a slut I am. How I’m just clearly out here jumping from one person to the next. It could be anybody, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry! They caught me off guard and I really didn’t know what else to say!” Ronda pauses and huffs. “Sorry but something tells me ‘oh yeah that’s us’ wouldn’t have went over well with you. I get you’re mad, I was a dick, I’ll own that, but you’ve gotta look at the bigger picture here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Bigger picture!?” Sasha screeches. “Yeah, it’s surely a bigger and better picture with everyone thinking I’m a fucking whore! Fuck what you’ve done to my reputation!” </span>
</p><p class="p3">“Your reputation!? What do you think it would’ve done to your reputation <em>and</em> mine if the world knew that we’re fucking!?”</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sasha flinches and crosses her arms. It’s that same feeling she got when she had saw the interview the first time. The same clenching in her stomach that she’s been working so hard to ignore since this whole thing started.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Look, I’m not gonna just be a dick to you for no reason. That’s not an excuse but...I really am sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sasha’s arms are still crossed even as she feels hands at her waist. She’s pulled into a familiar solid body and she looks away as a kiss aimed at her lips finds her cheek. She hates how her face immediately warms at the contact.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m still pretty fucking mad at you,” she mumbles as lips find their way down to her neck.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I know...I can feel how tense you are...” Ronda mumbles, angling her head just a little to place a kiss underneath Sasha’s ear. “I can help with that. Make you feel better?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sasha hesitates for a moment before she’s shaking her head and shrugging her way out of Ronda’s hold. “I’m not your girlfriend...” she mumbles, biting her lip.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ronda frowns at the oddity of the statement. “What? No yeah, we talked about that. That’s not what this is.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I know...” Sasha takes a deep breath before stepping away. “I think I’m gonna spend the night alone.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay...” Ronda blinks slowly. Sure she wasn’t exactly expecting to be forgiven, and she isn’t exactly sure that she is, but she certainly wasn’t expecting this. A raging tornado is what she’s used to when it comes to Sasha Banks. This? This is something akin to a quiet storm. “Anything I can do?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’ve done enough...”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sasha brushes past her and moved to retrieve her suitcase. She pauses and opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it an she’s left shaking her head as she’s leaves the room, leaving behind one very confused champion. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*puts on captain’s hat* setting a course for more rarepair content. Because why the hell not! </p><p>Haha thoughts always welcome :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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